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CHRISTMAS.

Now kings and queens poor sheepcotes have,

And mate with every body;
The honest men now play the knave,

And wise men play the noddy.
Some youths will now a mumming go,
Some others play at Roland-bo,
And twenty other game boys mo,

Because they will be merry.

Then, wherefore, in these merry days,

Should we, I pray, be duller?
No, let us sing some roundelays,

To make our mirth the fuller:
And while we thus inspired sing,
Let all the streets with echoes ring;
Woods and hills, and everything,

Bear witness we are merry.

George Withfr.

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SONG.

The lark now leaves his watery nest,
And climbing shakes his dewy wings;

He takes his window for the east,
And to implore your light, he sings,

Awake, awake, the moon will never rise,

Till she can dress her beauty at your eyes.

The merchant bows unto the seaman's star,

The ploughman from the sun his season takes;

But still the lover wonders what they are,

Who look for day before his mistress wakes:

Awake, awake, break through your veils of lawn!

Then draw your curtains and begin the dawn.

Sir William Davenant.

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